


in case you shake apart and want a brand new start

by metonymy



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metonymy/pseuds/metonymy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami shows Korra a night on the town. Post-finale, but ignoring some of the effects of the end of the season. Written for Rare Pair Fest 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in case you shake apart and want a brand new start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minutia_R](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/gifts).



It's hard for the Avatar to go unnoticed anywhere. She's a commanding figure, all broad shoulders and bold presence and a voice that cuts right through a crowd. Asami admires it, so different from her own calculated cosmetics and knife-edge beauty. Korra is gorgeous and doesn't even seem to know or care most of the time.

And even better, Korra doesn't care about getting a little dirty. Asami knows that Korra thought she was a priss, more prim than a pampered goat dog in some rich lady's garden. Until she brought Korra and the brothers to the racetrack and took Korra out for a spin, and Korra got to know her as something than other than a little rich girl.

So when Asami proposes getting the hell out of here, Korra leaps at the chance. When Asami suggests going in disguise, though, Korra's a little more skeptical.

"What's wrong with what I have on?"

"Nothing's wrong with it," Asami says diplomatically. "But I thought you wanted a night off from the whole Avatar thing."

"Okay, okay, yes, I said that. Fine. Where are we going, anyway?"

"I have a few places in mind," Asami says non-committally, leading Korra to sit down at the bench in front of her vanity. She takes Korra's hair out of its ponytail and combs through it with her fingers, loving the way the thick strands resist her movements a little. "Something a little bit different."

An hour later, Korra is transformed. Hair pulled back into a chignon, the front swept to the side with pomade in a wave and the side-locks pinned up with the rest of it. Her eyes are shaded slightly with kohl and her lips are a touch darker and redder, but that's it. Her boots have been replaced by neat saddle shoes with heels that click when she walks.

And her outfit... well, it's nothing like her usual Water Tribe garb, that's for certain. Nobody used to the Avatar in furs and heavy wool would recognize this woman in clothes that take the elements of a man's suit - the elaborate collar, the tight-fitting waistcoat - and balances them with silky fabric in a dark pinstripe. Instead of breeches tucked into high socks, the trousers are cut like a skirt. There's no way anyone will recognize her at a glance. But this plan might backfire, because she looks positively stunning. They'll just have to be quick and keep to the shadows.

Asami, meanwhile, puts on a dress with a dropped waist and a flaring skirt and high collar, and pins half of her hair up quickly. These are things she's used to, the quick adjustments of stocking and garter, the smudge of liner and the twist of hair before thrusting in the pin, and she glances up to see Korra watching her with admiration and is... surprised, almost.

"You make it look so easy," Korra says finally, clearing her throat. "I never... the Order of the White Lotus wasn't real big on wasting time on appearances."

"My mother used to love it," Asami says, dabbing a stray smudge under one eye with a square of cotton. "It's just another set of skills. Like self-defense." One more legacy her mother left. A little less problematic than an underground factory full of steam-powered fighting suits, she supposes. 

She tosses Korra a hat, and the Avatar catches it with ease and puts it on and tilts it over one eye, grinning with just a touch of nerves. "Let's go shake things up."

There's still a curfew in effect in the city after a few hours past sunset, but this time it's for everybody. For their safety in the wake of what was really a small-scale civil war, as the construction crews leave half-finished buildings for the night that could tumble down and crowds of the resurgent Triple Triad gangs try to carve out their territories again. But there will always be people who break curfew and tonight Asami and Korra are among them. They ride on Asami's scooter instead of taking the Satomobile, Korra's arms strong around her waist and thighs bracketing hers on the seat, and the thrum of the engine and her own excitement seem to connect and settle deep in Asami's stomach. It's a little indecent, the way her skirt spreads over the seat, but that's the least of her worries.

Asami had heard about this place from one of the young policemen tasked with helping clear out her father's secret factory works, though he hadn't been touting the place's good points. Just the opposite; he was talking about how even these minor rule-breakers needed to be stopped. But the floating dance halls keep popping up like singing groundhogs from their dens.

She knocks a sharp rap of staccato beats against the door at the back of the alley, Korra keeping watch as they wait. A small panel in the door slides open.

"Password?"

"Turtleduck soup," Asami says, and hopes it's the same as the one from last week. The panel slides shut. Her heart seems to drop around her shoes, but then the door opens and Korra's pushing her inside, a warm solid presence at Asami's back. The space appears to be a tiny closet, bricked in on all sides.

The guard looks them up and down, then shrugs and places a hand on the back wall. Bricks slide apart and reveal a stairway down. Music floats up, horns trilling up and the low noise of laughter and chatter behind it. Asami leads the way, Korra close behind with a hand on her shoulder. It feels comfortable there.

It's dazzling when they finally pass into the room, brilliantly lighted and full of noise and people. There's a group of musicians on a low stage at one end, a long polished corner at the other, and waiters bearing trays of glasses weaving through the crowd.

"Wow," Korra says, breath hot on Asami's neck. "How'd you know about this?"

"I talk to people," Asami says, and her nose brushes against Korra's cheek when she turns her head to look at the other girl. "Sometimes they tell me about things like this." It helped if they were former factory workers helping her get Future Industries back on its feet, starting to see her as less of the boss's pampered daughter and more as someone who wanted to get everyone on equal ground.

"I guess I'll have to thank them," Korra says, flashing a grin. "C'mon, let's dance." The hand that had been on Asami's shoulder slides down, and she's tugging Asami onto the dancefloor. Asami didn't think Korra knew this style of dancing, all fast footwork and pulling your partner in and out for spins and dips and twirls.

It turns out Korra doesn't really know it, but she dances anyway, a combination of swirling steps and graceful bends and curves and somehow managing to keep Asami within the circle of her arms at all times. And it isn't anything Asami recognizes - but it still works, a blending that manages to stay in time to the music and show her a whole new way of moving to it.

When the band finishes with a flourish and Asami's been pulled in close, she rests her head on Korra's shoulder for a moment, laughing softly as a new slower song starts.

"I didn't know you could dance like that," she says, pulling away just enough to look at Korra, whose face is flushed and bearing an enormous smile.

"I like anything that's not sitting still," Korra says. "C'mon, let's get something to drink. You think they have sea prune juice here? It's disgusting but there's nothing better to cool you down after you work up a sweat. And then we can keep dancing?" And the evident pleasure in her voice, the fact that the Avatar's just out having fun for one night instead of trying to balance the weight of the world's expectations, and that she's just spent three songs in a row flinging Asami about as if nothing mattered except the pair of them and the music swirling around them - all of that builds in Asami till she reaches up and tilts Korra's face towards her and presses a kiss to her lips.

This time when Korra starts pulling Asami through the crowd it's towards a dark corner, and she doesn't seem to mind that some of Asami's lacquer is now on her own lips. Sea prune juice can wait. And Asami doesn't mind missing the next dance or two.


End file.
